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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26879248">Just a Taste</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice/pseuds/Ausp_ice'>Ausp_ice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Biting, Blood Drinking, Injury, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:20:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,086</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26879248</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice/pseuds/Ausp_ice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor barely makes it out of an explosion. </p><p>Nines offers some help.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Just a Taste</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*laughs nervously* so I've been eyeballing a few of <a href="https://wolveria.tumblr.com/post/628095221627027456/detroit-become-human-kinktober-2020">these kinktober prompts</a> written by the lovely <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolveria/pseuds/Wolveria">Wolveria</a><br/>This one is for 7: Biting/Marking.</p><p>I currently have eight ideas including this one, they'll hopefully be very short because I have Work I need to Do</p><p>This one is more on the mild scale of things, I just saw <a href="https://twitter.com/ri3d927/status/1287164545358675968">this</a> a while ago and really wanted to write something inspired by it :'D<br/>I can't read Japanese, so I have no idea what it says. But I was Feral and Inspired so here I am</p><p>This is not polished at all, so if you see any errors please point them out :&gt;</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>THIRIUM LEVEL: 32%</b>
</p><p class="shutdown">--00:02:16<br/>
TIME UNTIL<br/>
<strong>SHUTDOWN</strong></p><p>
  <span>Nines stares at the timer, at the hand over the sluggishly bleeding wound on Connor’s abdomen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The RK800 is sitting against the wall, posture slumped. His clothes are disheveled, torn, stained with blue. He must have escaped from the explosion set off by the criminal he was trying to negotiate with. He failed, clearly, and the explosion must have killed the criminal—but not Connor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nines thought it did, at first. The thought lagged his processors with such an extreme stress that Hank—on standby with Nines and a few others—had to catch him to keep him from falling over. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll be fine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Connor had promised both Nines and Hank before going in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are not fine,” Nines observes, now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor chuckles, static lacing his voice. “No, I’m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nines clenches his jaw, instabilities rampant in his system. He kneels in front of his predecessor. “You are shutting down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am,” Connor agrees lightly. “At least I got to see you… heh. Are you supposed to be here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hank was unable to stop me.” Nines runs another scan before humming softly and sliding his jacket off his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh… what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your thirium levels are low,” Nines says. He unbuttons his black undershirt and slides the fabric off his shoulders, letting it pool around his elbows. “Drink from me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor blinks, some focus returning to his eyes. “What…? Nines, wait—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nines doesn't let his predecessor say more before he wraps a hand around Connor’s head and pulls his face to Nines’s shoulder—right at one of his minor thirium lines. “There is no time to link our circulatory systems. I am at nearly maximum thirium capacity, which is higher than yours; do not be concerned for me. Drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arms slowly lift to curl around Nines’s back. A puff of hot air on his bare shoulder, and then—</span>
  <b>CHASSIS DAMAGED, THIRIUM LEAK DETECTED. </b>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t hurt. Androids cannot feel pain. But Nines feels something, feels the wet suckling at his wound. He feels… </span>
  <em>
    <span>dizzy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>almost, as his thirium levels drop rapidly and he clings to Connor as much as Connor clings to him. His secondary cooling systems activate—he breathes heavily, trying to expel the growing heat within him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He loses himself in sensation, in the tight hold around him, in the wet suction on his shoulder, in the dizzying headiness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmf,” he hears, and he’s not sure whether the sound comes from himself or from Connor, but it makes the air charged with something </span>
  <em>
    <span>else. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Nines sighs in turn, fingers tightening in Connor’s hair and on his jacket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor hums, shifting his arms to wrap more gently around Nines's back. Nines feels—Connor’s tongue, it must be. Licking a stripe against the line of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nines finds his back arching, eyes fluttering shut. “C-Connor,” he says weakly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Connor unlatches himself from Nines’s neck. Nines blinks his eyes open to see his predecessor looking at him with an odd sort of intensity, his own heavy breaths making his chest rise and fall. His lips are stained with blue, with Nines’s own blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nines…” Connor murmurs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Nines—Nines feels an odd compulsion to lean in closer, so close that they’re breathing the same air. He presses his forehead against Connor’s, fisting the fabric of his predecessor’s jacket. “Connor…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Connor whispers, gazing into Nines's eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nines answers by taking Connor's lips into his own, tasting himself on his predecessor’s tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor lets out a soft “Mm,” in turn, lips parting easily and letting Nines explore his mouth and collect the traces of his own thirium. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels….</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Interesting. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Nines grips Connor’s hair with both hands, pressing deeper. This is dizzying, too, but—in a different way. He aches with something he cannot name, pressing himself as close as he can. He feels—</span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span>, in a way he never has, in a way he never thought he could, not without the parts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants… he wants… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nines pries himself from Connor’s lips, analysis fluid stringing between them. Connor’s pupils are incredibly dilated—an arousal subroutine, interesting. Nines absently notes that the RK800 is equipped with the relevant components and software… but for now—“Please,” Nines murmurs. He pulls Connor to his neck again. “Please, can you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Connor whispers. “Okay.” And then the RK800 bites down yet again, renewing the flow from Nines’s thirium line.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nines groans, burying his face in Connor’s shoulder. He’s almost certain his LED is red, reflecting his overloaded processors and his dropping thirium, but he doesn’t want it to stop. Even when Connor reaches 75% and Nines falls below that—when Connor tries to pull away, Nines tightens his grip around Connor, preventing him from doing so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor hesitates, clearly, but he soon resumes his gentle sucking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only when alarm cuts through his systems—not his own, Connor’s, through what must be an interface—that he realizes the dizzy floatiness he was feeling was edging towards preservational stasis. He has gone limp, slumped over Connor’s body, arms hanging loosely to the sides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor, on the other hand, quickly pushes Nines back with a hand on his shoulder, other hand on Nines’s face, lifting it up. The RK800’s eyes are full of worry; his systems, full of guilt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And arousal. A hard line of warmth presses between Nines’s legs, and the discovery is—</span>
  <em>
    <span>very interesting,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but Nines can only give Connor a dazed blink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connor frowns, and Nines notices him scan their systems through the interface. Connor’s thirium levels are at 95%. Nines’s… at 53%. Ah. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got carried away,” Connor murmurs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nines closes his eyes, letting himself be held up by Connor’s grip. “Let you,” he manages. “Made you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still should’ve stopped,” he says. “Come on. We should go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nines opens his eyes and lets his gaze and thoughts drift lower. Connor, in turn, turns faintly blue—a blushing subroutine. Fascinating. “We can—let’s talk about this later,” he mumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A slight frown edges onto Nines’s face. Does he not want…? With him…?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not it,” Connor reassures. He presses a chaste kiss to Nines’s lips. “That’s not it, okay? I want you. We’ll talk about it. But I’m still bleeding out, and we definitely need to get help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you stand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nines blinks sluggishly and nods. He can reroute his power to ensure mobility.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Connor says, smiling gently. He cradles Nines’s face in his hands for a moment longer. “Then let’s go home.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Then they go back, get repairs, go home, talk, and probably do more than just talk ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)</p><p>Thanks for reading!<br/>Check me out on social media: <a href="https://www.deviantart.com/ausp-ice"></a> | <a href="https://ausp-ice.tumblr.com"></a> | <a href="https://twitter.com/Ausp_ice"></a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/Au_spice">NSFW</a> | <a href="https://www.instagram.com/ausp.icium"></a> </p><p>I'm also in <a href="https://discord.gg/GqvNzUm">Detroit: New ERA</a> server! I have my own channel if you'd like to yell at me or just talk.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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